4 BATMAN: The Bizarre Knight
by Dan Bivens
Summary: What will Batman and Superman do when Lex Luthor's scientists create and release two notsoperfect clones bent upon the utter destruction of The World's Finest? Read after THE SLEEPLESS KNIGHT
1. Chapter 1

**THE BIZARRE KNIGHT**

Chapter 1

"Progress report, Dr. Teng," snarled Lex Luthor via an interoffice vid-wall with a digitally perfect image of the hairless billionaire on the wall-sized plasma screen mounted onto one entire enclosure. Situated some six-and-a-half feet up so that even the video image of Lex would have to be looked up to by those working in this, one of a dozen different high-tech departments in LexCorp. Especially this department.

Dr. Teng was a genius in bioengineering and advanced genetics, lured into LexCorp employ two years earlier by an advance paycheck containing at least seven zeroes, plus the promise of total noninterference by any and all medical oversight organizations. In other words, Lex Luthor gave Dr. Teng an open-ended contract to bring to fruition any and all scientific innovations.

Especially since Lex would make use of such to do the one thing in his fantastic life that he'd been unable to accomplish: bring down Superman.

"We are making progress, Mr. Luthor," said Dr. Teng as he turned bespectacled eyes to peer up at the high-definition image that was, unmistakably, Lex Luthor, master of his self-governed domain. "However, I cannot stress the need not to rush the results. I'm dealing with a highly advanced experimental means to create and accelerate the growth of real human clones."

"I trust, Doctor, that the facilities I've provided, along with the pay, is sufficiently generous?" said Lex in a clearly rhetorical tone and affectation. "Not to mention ready access to lots of Kryptonite without which, as I understand it, your unique cloning methods would not be possible."

"As I've stated numerous times since joining LexCorp, Mr. Luthor," said Dr. Teng with a tense sigh. "These newest genetic techniques I've developed and employed, with the assistance of some of the finest technicians your money could buy, is very delicate. Even dangerous. Perhaps in another year or so…"

"I want results now, Dr. Teng!" snarled the oversized image of Lex Luthor who, at that exact moment, was sitting in his opulent office at the very top of the twenty-six story LexCorp building, situated in the heart of downtown Metropolis. "It is now…nine-thirty A.M., Doctor…I expect real results by six-thirty P.M. today. Or else you might find yourself and your 'pet project' back out on the streets with a very nasty series of ethical and legal reprimands in your permanent personnel jacket. Understood?"

"Yes, Mr. Luthor, but…"

The sudden cessation of Lex's video link from top floor office to sub-floor experimental genetics labs rudely cut off Dr. Teng as he considered the very real possibility that Lex could easily use his considerable clout, not just with businesses, but with supposedly public labs as well as certain governmental agencies that could, with Lex providing erroneous informational propaganda designed to hurt the bioengineering and genetics genius, end up putting the brilliant scientist behind bars. Or worse.

Besides, this really was the culmination of a lifetime of research and experimentation that began long before being brought under the LexCorp roof. Figuratively speaking.

"All right, everyone," Dr. Teng said to all those assistants and technicians who'd been his staff from the very moment he'd accepted Lex Luthor's unbelievably generous financial and technical offer. "As you've heard, Mr. Luthor expects success by the end of the day. I realize that we've tried to maintain some semblance of reasonable safety thus far, but…it's time to pay the proverbial piper. And I only pray what we create here, today, doesn't prove to be humanity's undoing."

Bruce Wayne hated having to spend long hours at Wayne Enterprises during quarterly reports time regarding the corporation's myriad multi-billion dollar activities about the globe, both for profit as well as for the public-at-large. Even though he could spend such long hours, for the most part, in the comfortable opulence that was his official office, though he seldom used it.

The pop-up computer terminal, which was as much a part of his grandiose desk as its automatically locking/fingerprint-reading drawers, was currently presenting a seemingly endless list of extremely boring accounts for which, like it or not, Bruce had to attend at least once every three-to-four months.

Stifling a yawn and rubbing the redness from his too-tired eyes, Bruce looked out his office's window at the slowly setting sun dipping behind the immense skyline unique to Gotham, and knew that, very soon, he would leave behind this façade of attentive businessman for the truer mantle of crimefighting Batman.

He wondered if he could've ever maintained any semblance of sanity had it not been for his nightly excursions into the darkness, literal and figurative, of Gotham City as the Dark Knight. Probably. But he would've probably turned to alcohol, or worse, to deaden the sadness and loss that remained at the core of his being and which was, to some extent, appeased by his cowled-and-costumed alter ego.

Bruce thought with a bittersweet sentiment, Dad, now I know why you left as much of this to the board of directors. Your passion was always medicine as well as your philanthropic endeavors on behalf of the less fortunate of Gotham City. I don't know what you would think of your son, skulking from nighttime shadow to nighttime shadow in an identity-hiding, bulletproof padded blue-and-gray costume…but I'd like to believe that you'd be proud that, in my own way, I, too, was helping the people of this city.

Even as Bruce finished up, so he could deactivate his computer and allow it to retract into its recessed compartment to become very much a seamless part of the desk again, he couldn't help but think about how relatively quiet Gotham had been for the past month.

Ever since that one sleepless week wherein, thanks to Lex Luthor, although such could not be proved, and Joker, what a nightmarish combination!, a unbelievably super-powered villain called Composite Superman, literally half-Superman/half-Batman, in both costume combination as well as actual physicality, who'd made it possible for the dangerous inmates of Arkham Asylum, including the super-criminals Penguin, Riddler, and Two-Face, to run free until Batman and Superman rounded them all up again.

And what of Composite Superman? Neither Batman nor Superman could adequately answer that question. Both just felt relieved that such an incredibly powerful being from another reality was, indeed, gone. Lord knows, Batman and Superman would've never stopped him.

Meanwhile, back in Metropolis, Clark Kent had just changed into his super-powerful alter ego, which was more the real him than the bespectacled reporter, and was now flying high over his favored cosmopolitan home in his familiar red, blue, and yellow outfit, red cape billowing behind him. Super-vision and super-hearing, as always, were in full use in order to catch any sort of criminal or super-criminal act in progress.

Like Batman, Superman had had a relatively boring couple of weeks since the near-successful attacks of Composite Superman. Unlike the Dark Knight, the Man of Steel was fine with that. It was a lot like the "no news is good news" mentality, but replacing "news" with "crime".

The one thing both Batman and Superman shared in common was the realization that low-to-no crime periods never lasted.

The sun was gone from the sky and the moon, full for the next few days, dominated the night as Lex Luthor held to his dictated timeline…

"Dr. Teng," said a smirking Lex as he, along with his ever-present well-dressed, well-muscled bodyguards, entered the sub-floor experimental genetics lab area, "amaze me."

Dr. Teng, a nervous smile on his face, now alone as the many technicians that had consistently assisted him for the past two years had all left LexCorp after one very long day, gestured and said, "This way, Mr. Luthor."

Glancing back at his bodyguards, Lex gave a nod and a gesture that wordlessly ordered them to remain where they were as their hairless billionaire employer followed Dr. Teng into a point much deeper into the huge, sterile, one-of-a-kind high-tech lab. A point within its own set of windowless walls and doorway.

"Allow me to present to you," began Dr. Teng in a tone and affectation that heralded back to the days of the sideshow barkers, "the Superman and Batman clones!"

Having pressed a touch-sensitive control, the huge gold-hued doors of two seven foot tall, four foot wide compartments, both tied into an entire room of unrecognizable, even to Lex's highly intelligent mind, super-scientific devices via high-tech cables and hoses, the two sets of double-doors of two standing chambers gradually opened as dry ice steam rolled out like mini-fog banks to obscure the two muscular, costumed forms within for several tense seconds. Then…

"Dr. Teng," began Lex in steadily growing disgust, as he saw the two supposed clones of what, in newspapers such as The Daily Planet, which Lex Luthor once owned, had been referred to as The World's Finest, "is this your idea of a joke?"

Suddenly shaken, losing his smile, Dr. Teng began to hastily explain, "Mr. Luthor, please, hear me out. I realize these clones don't look exactly like Superman and Batman…"

"These clones look more like clowns, Doctor!" snappishly said Lex as he continued to look intently, angrily at two appropriately costumed, in the blue-red of the Man of Steel and the blue-gray of the Dark Knight, creations whose skin was stark white, overly angular, especially about the visible facial areas, as though composed of living diamond material rather than human-like flesh, then back to the understandably apprehensive bioengineering/genetics genius.

"Somehow, this happened once we stepped up the process in order to meet your deadline," explained Dr. Teng. "Which, of course, meant using a lot more Green Kryptonite exposure than originally called for to accelerate cellular maturation…"

"Doctor…"

"Though they appear odd," continued Dr. Teng. "Though they seem grotesque in comparison to the real Superman and Batman, both are just as powerful or, in the case of Batman, agile with an honest-to-God Bat-belt. And both not only believe they are the real thing, they are utterly loyal to you."

"Hm," hummed Lex as he reconsidered the situation and how he could manipulate it in his favor. "Who are you?"

First, the bizarre Superman said, with the delivery of a dim-witted moron, "Me am Soo-perman."

"And me am," chimed in an equally moronic cowl-and-caped clone, "Batty-man."

"Bizarre," Lex groaned with a shake of his hairless head, even as the odd-looking Superman clone looked toward the equally odd-looking Batman clone and shared a pensive moment, before...

"Bizarro?" asked both simultaneously. Then, separately, "Me am…Bizarro Soo-perman. Me am…Superzarro!"

"And me am," the dumb-downed version of the Dark Knight said a second later, "Bizarro Batty-man. Me am…Batzarro!"

"We am," continued Superzarro, "World's Worst!"

Just as both Superzarro and Batzarro began to chuckle, again in a dumb-downed manner, Lex rolled his eyes and heaved a very heavy, very prolonged sigh of angered frustration. Then he turned and said in a hushed aside to…

"Dr. Teng, surely you cannot be serious. These 'Bizarros' are like exact opposites of Superman and Batman. And they appear to be exceptionally…stupid."

Before Dr. Teng, literally fearing for his life at this point, could reply, Superzarro railed, while easily turning his maturation chamber into something akin to crumbled tinfoil, "Me no stoo-pid, Lex Loo-thor! Me soo-per! Me have super-hearing! Me hear you whispers! Not make me mad…or else!"

"And me not stoo-pid either," added Batzarro as he pulled a curiously shaped Batarang, which definitely was not bat-like in appearance, from a dirty, dull-yellow Bat-belt which he threatened to hurl at both Dr. Teng and Lex. "Me am Ca-ped Croo-sader! Me am Knight of Dark!"

Before either could further demonstrate their displeasure over Lex's whispered disrespect, the bald billionaire said with a forced smile, "I'm sorry… Superzarro…Batzarro. My mistake. Tell me…who do you…serve?"

Both Bizarros literally scratched their misshapen heads, then Superzarro answered, "Me serve…Lex Loo-thor."

"Yeah," Batzarro said immediately after, "me serve Lex Loo-thor, too."

Finally warming to these polar-opposite "heroes", Lex said, with a broader grin this time, "And who is our enemy?"

After a pregnant pause to consider the straightforward question, both Bizarros simultaneously replied, "Enemies am Soo-perman and Batty-man! Us hate them!"

As a devilish gleam in his eyes now matched a diabolical leer, Lex said under his breath, "Excellent."

END OF CHAPTER 1


	2. Chapter 2

**THE BIZARRE KNIGHT**

Chapter 2

While soaring above the high-rise rooftops of downtown Metropolis, red cape billowing majestically, Superman had, so far this night, intervened in one major bank break-in, one gang-related shootout, and two instances of expert cat burglary, but none of it anything the non-super-powered police couldn't have handled, if they'd had access to super-vision and super-hearing, not to mention a little super-speed.

Still, thankfully, in regards to the way the Man of Steel viewed the situation, all uneventful in regards to super-villains or a flood of escaped asylum miscreants. Such peaceful patrol, however, was about to be suddenly shattered.

"Uhnn!" exclaimed Superman as he was forcefully hit broadside in mid-flight by something.

The Last Son of Krypton was sent crashing hard into the smooth side of a concrete, steel, and glass building, sending large chunks of shattered concrete tumbling to the streets below yet, miraculously, missing any of the multitudes of pedestrians that seemed to frequent the city streets at any given time, day or night.

Quickly regaining his composure, Superman saw the massively muscular, and caped, cause silhouetted against the night's full moon. Then promptly streaked toward this obvious menace in hopes of rendering him relatively harmless fast enough to spare Metropolis any of the damage experienced by Gotham City a month ago when he and Batman battled an unstoppable Composite Superman.

In the split-second it would take for the Man of Steel to reach the unknown menace hovering high above the Metropolis streets, he couldn't help but silently pray that the cape-wearing muscular silhouette was not the aforementioned, in Superman's immediate memory, Composite Superman. The costumed Kryptonian didn't believe the green-skinned half-Superman/half-Batman super-being could be subdued any more now than then.

As Superman came within easy visual range of this new nemesis, his eyes beheld a far stranger site than that of an other-reality man wearing, literally, one-half Superman, one-half Batman costume with, the Superman half at least, the same countenance as the Man of Steel, save for the green skin, of course.

He would, instead, behold a Frankensteinish creature of stark-white, sharply angular features wearing a dull blue-red super-suit, who called himself…

"Me am Superzarro," said the imperfectly cloned Man of Steel. "Me am come to rid world of you, Soo-perman."

"Superzarro?" puzzled Superman as his X-ray vision failed to peer through the impenetrable skin, even though it was not composed of lead or, in any way, lead-lined, of this Bizarro version of himself. "Why do you want to…rid the world of me? What have I done to…?"

Before Superman could finish, Superzarro planted a diamond-like super-fist solidly against the square jaw of the Man of Steel which, in turn, sent him sailing completely through the top floor of an office high-rise that was, thankfully, deserted at night.

Crashing through formerly solid surfaces, from facing outer wall, through a half-dozen inner walls, and, finally through the outer wall on the opposite side of said building, Superman's flailing form would've continued on through several more high-rise buildings, some of which contained inhabited apartments or condominiums, had he not stopped himself via exertion of the graviton-controlling abilities that made it possible for such as he to fly without the use of any artificial apparatus.

Then, shaking off Superzarro's initial attack, the true Man of Steel zipped around said office building at better than Mach 2, causing a miniature sonic boom to erupt in his wake, before planting a super-uppercut into the ludicrously angular chin of Superzarro.

"Ouch!" loudly exclaimed Superzarro as his horrid pseudo-Superman form was literally sent into orbit.

Even as the Bizarro version of the Last Son of Krypton swiftly vanished in the night sky, Superman actually felt sharp pain shooting through his fist the likes of which he'd never, ever, felt before in his crimefighting life. Even when recently fighting Composite Superman.

Using his super-vision, the Man of Steel kept track of the proverbial Man of Diamond who not only smashed into one of the dozens of satellites currently in orbit about the Earth, but sent it sailing on out into space at thousands of miles per hour.

Meaning, Superman knew, that once this Frankensteinish menace had been dealt with, he would have to fly out, retrieve said satellite and physically return it to its previous orbital position.

Not wishing Superzarro to recover and re-attack too soon, Superman streaked spaceward faster than any of Man's rocket-assisted shuttles…

Meanwhile, in Gotham City, Batman answered a silent alarm set off at one of the lesser banks situated in the often crime-ridden area and, expecting either run-of-the-mill crooks, at the least, or super-criminals like Riddler, Penguin, Two-Face, or Joker, at the most, the Caped Crusader was soon shocked to confront…

"Just what the hell are you supposed to be?" said the Dark Knight in his patented snarling voice even as the thing responsible for tripping said silent alarm turned his own haphazardly cowled head in Batman's direction.

"Me am Batzarro," proudly proclaimed the not-so-Dark Knight with a crooked grin on his stark white, sharply angular, half-covered face. "Me am here to take you place in Gotham. You give up…or you get hurt."

"I don't know what the hell you're supposed to be, Batzarro, but you must not know me very well, if you think I'd ever surrender," said Batman even as he surreptitiously removed three miniature flash bomb balls from one of his yellow Bat-belt's many compartments.

Then, tossing them at the Bat-booted feet of Batzarro, even as the misshapen monster in a dirty version of Batman's cowl and cape with a dull yellow Bat-belt of his own, lumbered toward the Caped Crimefighter.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

As three flash bomb balls unleashed sudden sound, smoke, and blinding illumination, meant to disorient in the same manner as the much larger counterparts used by regular law enforcement, Batzarro's barely visible form, complete with seemingly bent bat-like ear protrusions from the top of his cowl, had reached into a similar compartment of his Bizarro-version Bat-belt.

"Me play games, too, Batty-man!"

No sooner said than done, Batzarro's Bat-gloved hand hurled down three similar balls that Batman naturally assumed would be mini-flash bombs, also. He would quickly come to learn of the counter-logic that was inherent within his Bizarro clone.

Instead of unleashing sudden sound, smoke, and blinding illumination, the Batzarro mini-balls were actually bombs. The moment they made contact with the solid surface of the highly polished bank floor…

Boom! Boom! Boom!

"Uhhhnnn!"

Batman was thankful, once again, that the special protective padding incorporated into his own Bat-suit and cowl was such that even the concussive force of a triple-blast unleashed by actual mini-bombs did no more than momentarily stun the Dark Knight.

Unfortunately for him, a moment was all that Batzarro would need, as the reverse-Batman actually displayed true fighting prowess combined with actual acrobatic balance by swiftly tumbling toward the shaken Caped Crusader, coming up on his Bizarro Bat-booted feet and, then, landing well-aimed Bat-gloved fists solidly into the unprotected jaw of the billionaire beneath the cowl.

By the time Batman regained enough of his bearings, as well as his balance, to block Batzarro's blows, he relied upon his own weaponless combat techniques to get the better of the creepy copy of himself.

"Dammit!"

Of course, the diamond-like angular nature of Batzarro's stark white exposed jaw proved much more resilient than normal human flesh and bone, which forced Batman to back away with pained glove-hand in order to promptly reexamine his current situation.

"Look," began Batman in attempt to forestall further needless violence, "Batzarro, I have no real reason to fight you…other than the fact you broke into a bank long after its doors were closed and locked."

"Batzarro no criminal," said the Bizarro Batman snappishly. "Me come inside bank to prevent robbery. And so me can fight you."

"But why?" asked Batman, both to continue stalling for time to come up with an adequate offense as well as genuinely curious as to who or what Batzarro really was. "Why do you want to fight me, Batzarro?"

"Me told by Lex Loo-thor," Batzarro stupidly replied, "to fight Ca-ped Croo-sader. Me do as Miz-ter Loo-thor say. Me made by Loo-thor!"

"I see," said the Dark Knight as his eyes narrowed from within the cowl. "Lex Luthor, of Metropolis, created you and ordered you to battle me here in Gotham City. That about it?"

Nodding exaggeratedly, the dumb-downed Dark Knight replied, "Me am sorry, Batty-man, but me am s'posed to hurt you. Me s'posed to take you place in Gotham."

"Of course, I understand," said Batman agreeably, still fishing for a sure-fire means of defeating Batzarro without actually harming him. "If your 'master' ordered you to do this, what else can you…"

"Lex Loo-thor not Batzarro's 'master', Batty-man!" angrily snapped the self-named Knight of Dark while pulling his oddly-shaped Batarang from the dull-yellow Bat-belt. "Me am Ca-ped Croo-sader…like you was!"

No longer taking Batzarro's skills for granted, Batman ducked just as the curious object whistled over his cowled head, then popped up while reaching for his own, true, Batarang from his brighter yellow Bat-belt. But it would prove a couple of seconds too soon…

"Ahhh!"

For the tossed non-bat-shaped Batarang, tossed by Batzarro, did exactly as the real Batarang in Batman's possession would've done: it reacted as the ancient boomerang upon which it was designed and doubled back to slam hard into the protected back of the Dark Knight's head.

Obviously, not enough to cause unconsciousness or substantial pain, thanks to the impenetrable cowl, but enough to slightly stagger Batman which, in turn, gave Batzarro just enough time to execute a reverse roundhouse kick, which seemed expected for a reverse-Batman…

"Ooof!"

…which connected solidly enough to knock Batman off his Bat-booted feet to crash down hard onto the bank's polished floor. Quickly followed by a downward stomp on behalf of Batzarro which, if it impacted with the unprotected part of the Dark Knight's face, could cause both severe injury and certain unconsciousness.

But the Batman would never allow himself to be such easy prey and, just as the Bat-booted foot of his Frankensteinish foe came down with considerable force, the Dark Knight moved his head and, then, grabbed onto the lower half of Batzarro's leg which, shifting his own muscularly athletic body weight, caused the self-anointed Ca-ped Croo-sader down face-first onto that self-same floor.

But, by the time the uncannily balanced Batman rolled onto his Bat-booted feet again, Batzarro had tossed what, from the Dark Knight's Bat-belt, would've been self-exploding tear gas balls…

Pop-Shussssshhhhhh!

"Uhhhhhh!"

…was, instead, poisonous and not only rendered the real Batman unconscious, but would, if not countered by a universal antidote, such as the Dark Knight did, indeed, carry in yet another Bat-belt compartment, yet which would require him to be at least half-conscious to retrieve and inject.

As it now stood, the seemingly ridiculous and stupid opposite of the Batman had, in fact, set into motion something that, left untreated for even a couple of hours, would cause the billionaire behind the cowl to breath his last.

"Me sorry, Batty-man, but me have no choice," Batzarro said just before he retrieved his curiously shaped Batarang, put it back where it belonged within his dull-yellow Bat-belt, then proceeded to exit the closed-for-the-night bank.

"Me hope Superzarro do good, too."

END OF CHAPTER 2


	3. Chapter 3

**THE BIZARRE KNIGHT**

Chapter 3

"I don't know what you expect to prove, uh, Superzarro," said Superman imperturbably after trading a few more super-blows with the curious clone that had so brutally attacked him earlier in the evening. "But I do know that I can't let you jeopardize innocent lives here in Metropolis. I will stop you."

"You no stop me, Soo-perman," stupidly sneered the Bizarro Superman, created by Dr. Teng for none-other-than Lex Luthor, wearing the dirty blue-red super-suit over stark white diamond-sharp skin. "No one stop me. Me Superzarro. Me am powerful. Me show you!"

Even as the dimwitted Superzarro streaked straight for the equally airborne Superman, the Man of Steel tensed visibly while thinking, Not this time, Superzarro. I'm wise to your super-powers…and I'll die before I let you use them to bring harm to my beloved city. Not to mention…Lois.

Meanwhile, as two supermen battle high over Metropolis, trading blows that sounded exactly like the peal of thunder from a great storm, Lois, who'd been working late at the Daily Planet, rode in a taxi that soon came to an unscheduled halt due to a major traffic jam and numerous spectators clogging the streets while looking up in awed wonderment.

"Hey, what's going on? Why are we stopping?" Lois demanded of the salty cabby via his half-open Plexiglas partition.

"I dunno, lady," the cabby shrugged, "somethin's goin' on up…there."

Even as the cabby jabbed a grubby, finger upward while leaning forward to peer into the sky via a dirty windshield, Lois Lane tossed several bills over the seat via the partition's opening, saying, "Keep the change," then promptly climbed out.

It didn't take long to figure out what the attraction was that had so many Metropolitans so spellbound. The thunderous report of landed super-punches from high above cinched Lois' suspicions.

"Superman," she gasped as she saw the Strange Visitor from Another Planet fiercely engaged in a knockdown-drag out with…what?

Quickly looking around at those citizens swarming not only the busy-as-usual sidewalks but the middle of the multi-lane downtown street as well, Lois spied someone with exactly what she needed at the moment, "Binoculars."

Pushing her way through with a flood of half-hearted epithets of "Excuse me, pardon me, excuse me", Lois Lane finally said to her overly lanky objective, "Hey, can I borrow those a minute?"

Normally, the skinny man with the binoculars would've said something especially snide at such a request, but one look at the dark-haired beauty with the unbelievable bedroom eyes caused all such antisocial feelings to swiftly melt away, as he promptly replied with a smile, "Uh, sure, honey. Here."

"Thanks," Lois said curtly, while practically snatching the binoculars from the rangy man's hands, even as he ran fingers through his bed-head hair, as if such could make him somehow look more attractive to the brunette bombshell.

"So, uh," he began with a ridiculous grin, "my name's…"

"No!" exclaimed Lois with such force that the lanky man momentarily believed such was meant for him, until she removed the binoculars from those bedroom eyes, absently handing them back. "Superman's fighting…another Superman. And…he may be losing."

"Uhnnnn," Batman groaned as consciousness slowly, painfully permeated his nearly comatose mind. A mind whose last memory was of being exposed to poisonous gas that should have killed him…yet here he was. Alive. But…where was he?

As briefly blurred eyes behind the indigo cowl took in his immediate surroundings, his nose sniffing the distinctively disinfected air, it didn't take the Dark Knight detective long to determine where he was…

"Hospital," he said as he elbowed himself up slightly on the hospital bed about which drawn white curtains separated Batman from all those just beyond. His ears, nestled within the impermeable cowl, picked up all the expected sounds of an active Gotham City medical center.

While proceeding to push himself into a fully seated position, costumed legs and Bat-booted feet now draped over the side scant millimeters above the highly polished floor, the Caped Crimefighter thought, Obviously someone found me and rushed me to a clinic. Probably the police after answering the same silent alarm which brought me to the bank…and Batzarro. But…I wonder why they haven't removed my cowl. Or…did they remove it only to put it back again?

"Ah, I see you've finally come around," a refreshingly familiar voice said from just behind the sitting Caped Crusader. Quickly, Batman turned to see…

"Leslie."

Dr. Leslie Thompkins, a lovely cocoa-skinned lady with short-cropped white hair who had the deportment of a physician who cared more about helping the lost than making obscene amounts of money treating the rich. Someone who had not only been a friend and colleague of the late Dr. Thomas Wayne, but, along with Alfred Pennyworth, helped to keep young Bruce out of the often unproductive, if not downright abusive, foster care system by providing some semblance of family.

"Long time no see, Bruce," Leslie said while glancing about to make certain their conversation was not being overheard by medical personnel with a penchant for eavesdropping. "Looks like you're still chasing ghosts. Or is it guilt?"

"Leslie, I'm really not in the mood right now," lightly warned the Dark Knight as he unsteadily stood, now fully facing his surrogate mother and confidante. "However…I am glad I was brought to you…no doubt at your urging…so that I not only received the universal antidote I carry, as you already know, but that I received treatment without having my face exposed."

"Still analyzing and deducting, I see," Leslie said with a tender smile and tilt of her head, even though her chastising gaze told a different truth in regards to Bruce Wayne's choice of nighttime activities. "I've long accepted that there's no changing you, Bruce. But…I couldn't let your true identity to be revealed by some ham-handed orderly or inquisitive intern. And, as you said, I knew about the universal antidote syringe in your Bat-belt. I have to tell you…it was close. Another ten minutes and…"

Nothing more had to be said. Batman was well aware of what the inevitable end would've been had Dr. Leslie Thompkins not interceded.

Once again in his convoluted life, the man within the cowl-and-caped costume felt a swell of not only gratitude, but familial affection for the woman who'd stepped in, along with Alfred, to fill the excruciating void left by the murder of his parents.

But the Dark Knight had no time for such humble ruminations, as he said, while preparing to step through the white curtains about the hospital bed, "I have to go. There's some sort of warped clone of me out there and…"

"I know, Bruce, I know," said Leslie with a hushed aside filled with motherly love as her sometimes haggard, though still comely, face managed a shaky smile. "Duty calls. Go…save Gotham. Again."

Allowing such emotions to momentarily fill his otherwise lost soul, Batman smiled back while quickly hugging the white-haired lady with more genuine fondness than any man could feel in regards to someone who'd been only a proxy parent.

And, then, just like that, the Batman was gone.

"Good luck," softly said Dr. Leslie Thompkins with a catch in her voice and a tear in her eye, "my son."

Upon leaving the clinic, located in the same general crime-ridden area of Gotham City as the bank that had been violated by Batzarro, Batman realized that he would first have to return, by foot and by Batarang swinging, to his self-protected Batmobile before being able to pursue the Bizarro version of himself.

He only hoped he could catch up to the misguided doppelganger before the self-proclaimed Ca-ped Croo-sader could place innocent Gothamites in harm's way.

END OF CHAPTER 3


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4/CONCLUSION

Succumbing to an inexpressibly powerful punch, Superman was sent crashing into the Metropolis street far below with enough concussive force to knock everyone off their feet for dozens of blocks, while leaving a sizeable crater at the impact point. The Man of Steel was understandably dazed even as his true blue eyes spied…

"Lois!"

"Superman!"

"Lo-ez?"

Before the true Last Son of Krypton could call up super-speed and flight capabilities, which he would've selfishly used to remove the woman he loved, both as Superman and as Clark Kent, from a danger that the citizens in general would still be forced to face…

"No!" super-shouted Superzarro at such a high decibel level that every single window within a two mile radius shattered and all the people within range, tens of thousands of them, clapped hands over severely assaulted ears and, for at least the next several minutes, would be temporarily deaf due to excessive ringing left in the wake of such an overly emotional super-scream.

Even Superman's ears would ring for at least a single minute. A minute Metropolis and Lois Lane didn't necessarily have.

The Man of Steel focused his heat vision straight up to collide oppressively with the Frankensteinish version of himself, currently heading steadily downward. Though such would not harm the equally invulnerable Bizarro in dirty blue-red, it would nevertheless hurt him.

"So," Superzarro proclaimed loudly after shaking off the effects of Superman's heat vision, "you think you only one have super-vision power? Me have them, too. Me show you."

With that, Superzarro focused his not-so-true blue eyes and unleashed, instead of heat vision, freezing vision which instantly saturated the Man of Steel with super-cooled air that, just as quickly, became a dense shell of ice about the superhero. But the Man of Diamond, as it were, did not leave it at that.

Pursing his stark-white, sharply angular lips after filling his Bizarro lungs with oxygen, Superzarro unleashed a twisted version of super-breath which, instead of issuing freezing cold, sent forth super-scorching flame that not only melted the thick ice his super-vision had created barely a second before, but instantly turned the crash crater into a molten pool not unlike a thick aggregation of lava, which had a dual effect upon Superman: the swiftly switching extremes of temperature not only created a shock to his system, the molten street in which he now stood clung to his red booted feet like epoxy glue.

The temporary stall would be just long enough for Superzarro to swoop down and snatch up Lois Lane to be carried cradled in his super-arms in a undeniably romantic manner while swiftly soaring back up into the night sky.

"Lois…"

The sight of Superzarro flying off with the woman the Man of Steel loved was more than enough to cause a resurgence of super-strength which sent Superman swiftly streaking off in hot super-fast pursuit. His dual goal: rescuing the woman he cared for more than life itself and beating the hell out of the Bizarro clone.

At that exact same moment, hundreds of miles away in the heart of Gotham City…

"…strange Batman-like creature currently tearing up midtown, all units…"

With the touch of a Bat-gloved forefinger against the pressure-sensitive volume control, Batman quickly quieted the computer-captured call for armed assistance against the Bizarro in cowl-and-cape, as the true Dark Knight muttered under his breath, "I've got you now, Batzarro. One way or the other…you're going down."

"Me am Ca-ped Croo-sader!" shouted Batzarro from his perch atop a multiplex theater's marquis even as police, armed with Glocks as well as shotguns, took cover behind their respective patrol cars, light-bars still flashing furiously, in preparation for using extreme force to stop this perversion of their hooded hero. "Not make me mad! Me not want hurt coppers! But me will!"

"Just what the hell is that thing, Sarge?" excitedly asked the raw recruit with his drawn Glock aimed at the elevated position of the Cowled Bizarro.

Sergeant Renee Montoya, a young woman who'd distinguished herself numerous times as a member of the uniformed contingent of the GCPD, shook her brown-haired head even as her exotically beautiful face denoted extreme tension offset by assiduous devotion to duty, "I don't know, officer. But one thing I can tell you…whatever it is, it sure as hell ain't nothing like the Batman."

Even as Renee took aim with the pump 12-gauge in her possession, the advancing roar of a turbo-engine powered vehicle left little doubt as to the fact the Batmobile was on speedy approach. Something which brought ready smiles to everyone in uniform, especially Renee. But a knowing scowl upon the uncovered-by-cowl stark-white, sharply angular features of Batzarro.

"Now I feel good about this," she said with a knowing nod. "Be ready to open fire, kid."

"Yes, ma'am!" the youthful police officer said with a gregarious grin while again aiming his Glock at the elevated position of the Bizarro version of the coming Caped Crimefighter.

"That it, Batty-man!" snarled the dumb-downed clone of the Dark Knight, even as the speeding Batmobile made its way toward the area cordoned off by the GCPD. "This am last stand for you! Me am true Ca-ped Croo-sader!"

"If you were," said a growled whisper of a familiar voice from directly behind Batzarro, "you would've figured out that I might use the self-driving program of the Batmobile to create a distraction."

"Huh?" the misshapen clone beneath the cowl said amidst rapidly widening eyes, while ignorantly spinning around.

Krrrrack!

A hard left from a Bat-gloved fist brandishing a standard set of leaden Bat-knuckles, not to be confused with the Green Kryptonite Bat-Knuckles in the special lead-lined pouch to the cape-covered back of that same yellow Bat-belt, had the desired, easily deduced effect…

"Uhgggg!"

…as unyielding force caught Batzarro square beneath his jagged jaw, making perfect use of the reverse Batman's momentary loss of balance, physically as well as mentally, in order to send the self-proclaimed Knight of Dark crashing hard to the pavement more than two dozen feet straight down.

"Ooooof!"

Just that quickly, Batzarro had been rendered utterly unconscious even as the real Batman replaced the single Bat-knuckle back into its pouch positioned above one costumed hip, before using a Batarang-secured grapple line to quickly repel down the side of the building containing the multiplex.

After swiftly securing Batzarro's gloved hands behind his caped back via not one, but two Bat-PlastiCuffs, whose zip-tie had been made especially snug, the real Caped Crusader gestured for the uniformed police to move in and take possession of the grotesque doppelganger.

"Nice work, Batman," Sergeant Montoya said as several officers made a point of dragging away, in order to lock into the armored rear of a recently-arrived police paddy-wagon, the still unconscious Batzarro. "How'd you know that little fist equalizer of yours would work against something that looked like it was made out of diamond-like skin?"

"Just because this aberration's face and body were a bit tougher than flesh and bone, didn't mean he was any more resistant to harm than my own exposed chin," said Batman by way of swift explanation. "I only hope, Renee, that Arkham Asylum can hold that…thing."

"Without his Bat-belt," said Sgt. Montoya even as both saw said dull-yellow belt in police hands after double-locking the impervious rear doors of the paddy-wagon, "I doubt he'll be able to do anything worse than bellyache about the food. Good to work with you again…Dark Knight."

"The pleasure's all mine…Sergeant."

As uncovered hand shook with the Bat-gloved one…

"Let Lois go!" shouted Superman even as he caught up with the still-flying, but not at true super-speed, Superzarro with a vainly struggling Lois Lane still cradled within the monstrosity's super-muscular arms.

"No! Lo-ez Laney am mine, Soo-perman!" the Man of Diamond said angrily to the Man of Steel. "Me no let her go! Me save her!"

"Save her?" puzzled Superman.

"Save me?" quizzed Lois, halting her useless struggle to glare curiously into the horrid face of the Bizarro clone. "From what?"

"From this."

With that, Superzarro released Lois so that she would plummet toward the ground, hundreds of feet below, while her screams were like music to his super-hearing.

As to the Man of Steel, he was shocked into inaction for the span of perhaps two seconds. But seconds were all that Lois Lane had between her falling form and the unforgiving solidity of Metropolis streets.

"No!"

With that, Superman swooped down at super-speed, more than making up for the momentary hesitation brought about by the shock of so senseless an act by Superzarro, and gently caught the falling Lois Lane mere inches from certain death.

"No save Lo-ez!" snarled the Bizarro version of Superman as his sharply angular stark-white features formed a highly unintelligent scowl. "She am mine to save! Me kill you now!"

With Superzarro in tight pursuit behind the Man of Steel, who continued to lovingly carry Lois, Superman proceeded straight for a certain experimental set of laboratories located in Metropolis.

"I'm dropping you at S.T.A.R. labs, Lois," he surreptitiously said to the dark-haired beauty. "Here's what I need you to tell them…"

In the split-second it took for Superman to set Lois Lane on her high-heeled feet directly in front of the main entrance to the Science and Technology Advanced Research laboratories to carry out his curious instructions, the Man of Steel made a hairpin turn and flew headlong into the incoming Man of Diamond at multi-Mach velocity.

BOOOMMM!

The thunderous sound of two super-powerful beings slamming into one another at speeds that would rival that of a fighter jet literally caused the nearby buildings to shudder on their foundations, even as Lois quickly entered S.T.A.R. labs for a mysterious substance she knew nothing about…other than its officially coded label.

Superman, even as he was landing super-punches and weathering the same while in aerial combat with his ersatz opposite, knew he had no choice but to hang in there and keep Superzarro's staggeringly limited intelligence otherwise occupied so that his secret scheme, to be carried out by Lois and the peerless scientists of S.T.A.R., could be carried out before the Bizarro Superman could figure it out.

One super-power Superman had that Superzarro clearly did not, was his super-intelligent mind. Such would be his only hope of defeating a being that was, in essence, a mirror image, albeit perverted, super-being.

"This am it, Soo-perman!" said Superzarro loudly as he managed to, first, use clasped fists to deliver a doubled blow against Superman's heroic jaw that not only staggered the Man of Steel, but distracted his hovering form just long enough to allow the Bizarro clone in blue-red to get the Last Son of Krypton in a super-strong Full Nelson hold. "Me kill you now, so Mee-trop'lus have me as protector! So me have Lo-ez Laney!"

"Over my dead body!" shouted Superman through tightly clenched teeth as every erg of super-strength rushed forth from the depths of his soul to toss Superzarro over his head with enough force to send the Man of Diamond crashing hard into the side of a high-rise office building across the crowded, with gawking citizens, street. Effectively burying the misshapen body of the clone a full half-foot into the concrete-and-steel outer wall.

Then, just before Superzarro had time to regain his dimwitted senses so that a super-powerful counterstrike could be launched, Lois rushed out of S.T.A.R. labs and shouted, "Superman…here it is!"

Superman swooped down to land, majestically, before the beauteous reporter and took swift possession of a strange blue-glowing rock that he intended to use against this reverse-Superman as soon as the Frankensteinish creation streaked toward the real Superman with both stark-white, sharply angular, super-strong fists aimed at the Man of Steel like twin devastating battering rams.

"Me kill you!"

In the microsecond it took for that super-shouted imperative to reach human ears, Superzarro had covered the short distance to come within imminent striking distance of the unmoving Man of Steel.

"Ahhhggggg!"

As if hitting an impenetrable invisible wall, Superzarro reacted with excruciating agony scant inches from impacting his outstretched fists against Superman's S-symbol dominated chest of thick muscle, the bluish glow of the curious rock in the Man of Steel's hand intensifying significantly.

With Superzarro finally overcome by both pain and an absolute loss of all strength, super or not, Superman set the blue-glowing substance, roughly the size of a grown man's fist, very near the Man of Diamond writhing at his red-booted feet, even as a very puzzled Lois stepped closer.

"I don't understand. What is that?"

"Officially," said Superman by way of explanation even as he inhaled deeply as visible evidence that the super-threat had now been ended, "S.T.A.R. Labs BK-1004-EX. A substance they had been chemically recreating for experimental purposes to see how altering the molecular structure of the original might affect me. Which, by the way, it didn't."

Her lovely visage still a mask of unasked questions, the smiling Man of Steel, his true-blue eyes glistening with truer love, said simply, "It's Blue Kryptonite. It has no measurable effects on me…but I calculated that, since Superzarro is an opposite, it might just have the same affect on him that Green Kryptonite has on me. Obviously, I was right."

Finally understanding, a nodding Lois Lane looked down at the still-writhing Superzarro and, finally, back to Superman and earnestly asked, "What will you do with him? You can't just let him die of Blue Kryptonite exposure."

Superman nodded succinctly and said, "No, but I've estimated that fatality would not occur from this size Blue Kryptonite for some fifteen-to-twenty minutes…more than enough time for me to build a super-dense lead-lined detention chamber within the sub-floor testing labs of S.T.A.R. where he can be held captive with the artificially-created Kryptonite just outside virtually indestructible walls…just in case."

"I see," Lois said as the sudden cessation of danger gave way to the mutual merger of affectionate feelings that both the Man of Steel and the Lady of the Daily Planet had held for one another for years.

Meantime, within the opulence that was his private office atop the multi-story LexCorp building…

"No! Not again!" Lex Luthor shouted to no one in particular, while hurling anything not too heavy to move down hard onto both carpeted floor and against gleaming walls. "I thought, this time, my plans to obliterate the Man of Steel and the Dark Knight would at long last be realized! Once again, I am robbed of such a glorious victory! Bah!"

The burly bodyguards, as well-dressed as they were well-armed, stood stoically to the opposite side of said office as the degree of debris covering the floor grew dramatically, before the fuming Lex, at last, strode angrily in their direction.

"I want Dr. Teng's employ here," Lex ordered with a decidedly devilish growl, "terminated."

The bodyguards nodded in unspoken understanding and left their hairless boss to stand glaring out over Metropolis from his private office's grand window, even as the first rays of dawn began to slowly chase away the previous night as the full moon dipped behind the far side of the grand Metropolitan skyline.

"Next time," he vowed vehemently under his snarling breath, "you will be defeated."

END


End file.
